


moving on and moving forward

by Sparrows



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nonbinary Frisk, Pacifist Route, all ur faves are nonbinary sorry, like this is right before you leave at the end, nonbinary chara, technically mute frisk too, technically post-pacifist but not really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparrows/pseuds/Sparrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's one last goodbye to make before Frisk steps out into the sunlight.</p>
<p>(Inspired by a passage in feralphoenix's "bon courage", which you should all read!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	moving on and moving forward

"I'm not going any further than this," Chara says quietly.

Their voice is flat, nearly void of emotion, but Frisk has been listening to them long enough - through reset after reset, looping the timelines back around on themselves a hundred different ways - that they can pick out notes of sadness, melancholy, in the way Chara mumbles. But there's happiness, too, and a sort of quiet relief.

The pair of them stand by the barrier - or rather, where the barrier had once been. Now it's just a yawning cave mouth, a black silhouette curved around the golden sunset just beyond. There's a soft breeze blowing in from the outside, bringing with it the warm scent of plants, the faint murmur of conversation from the others all clustered at the cliff's edge. Frisk wants to step out there, to rejoin the world they'd left behind when they fell into the mountain, but...

Chara stands in the middle of the doorway, hands wrapped around their arms like they're trying to hug themself. They look ghostly, intangible, the last rays of sunlight bleaching what little colour might have been there to begin with, but Frisk recognises the green and gold sweater easily enough, and the ruddy red of their hair falling limp around their head.

Their shoulders tremble. This isn't the first time Chara has projected themself like this, though it had been astonishingly rare; normally they'd been content to remain a voice tucked alongside Frisk's thoughts, providing commentary - sometimes snide, sometimes downright mean, usually just very, very tired - and, Frisk will admit, companionship. And they've been quiet ever since they spoke to Asriel in the ruins and returned here, to the last chamber befre the surface.

It isn't the first time, no, but Frisk feels like somehow it'll be the last.

_How come?_ Frisk thinks, still uncomfortable with speaking aloud even though nobody is around to hear (old habits die hard and Frisk has the memory of bruises to prove it). Thankfully, for better or for worse, Chara's always been able to hear their thoughts. _You could still come with us, if you wanted._

Chara smiles. "I've been a ghost long enough, Frisk," they say, unclasping their fingers from their sweater sleeves and scrubbing the start of tears from their face with both cuffs. "I think I'm ready to move on, thanks to you."

Frisk thinks of old movies, of all the sweetly sad endings where the ghost of a loved one walks into the light, and feels a flutter of panic. Unthinkingly they reach out, try to catch Chara's wrist in their hand, but swipe their hand straight through instead. _You can't go,_ Frisk thinks desperately, fear rising in their chest and blooming inside their ribs. _I don't_ want _you to go!_

(Frisk remembers Asriel's voice, howling in despair: _I'm not ready for this to end._ )

"I don't think I have much of a choice," Chara says mildly, shrugging. They hold out both hands, palm-upwards, towards Frisk, and that gesture of trust, with both sleeves pushed up just enough to see the pale lance-lines of scarring along their forearms - it's almost shocking enough that it takes Frisk a moment to realise Chara is fading away. Their fingertips are barely visible, their scarred and sore palms only a little more so.

Chara's intangible, untouchable, but Frisk reaches out anyway to rest their own hands over Chara's: close but never quite making contact.

_Your locket,_ Frisk decides. _I'll take it back to the ruins, if you want. Put it in with the golden flowers._ They can see it in their mind's eye, the little golden locket lying amidst the flowers, untouched and undisturbed, as close as can be to the bones buried beneath - the last remnants of Chara's soul reunited with their body at long, long last.

But Chara shakes their head. "Nah. Keep it," they say, still smiling. There are tears gathering anew at the corners of their eyes, but this time they make no move to wipe the tears away. "I think I'd like you to have it."

Frisk's the first to pull their hands away - they're crying too, now, and they wipe distractedly at their face with one hand, touch the little heart-shaped locket with the other. It's warm to the touch, like it's been worn close to the skin and not on top of a sweater. Chara leans forward, touches their index and middle fingers to their lips, and then presses them to the locket.

It's the closest Chara has ever brought themself to actually showing fondness for Frisk in person, and that little gesture - like a goodbye kiss - makes Frisk's scraped-up knees collapse from under them and makes their shoulders shake with weeping.

(Again, Frisk thinks of Asriel.

_I'm not ready for this to end._  
_I'm not ready for you to leave._  
_I'm not ready to say goodbye to someone like you._ )

Chara laughs, quietly. It's a lovely little sound, one that Frisk suspects few people have ever gotten to hear.

"You'll be fine, Frisk," they say, and though there's still that weird flatness to their voice there's warmth there, too. When Frisk looks up, they realise Chara's almost completely transparent, barely visible, ghostly form haloed by the setting sunlight and lighting them in shades of gold. "You just have to stay _determined_. You can do that for me, right?"

Frisk nods.

Chara fades away entirely.

( _It seems your journey is just beginning._ )

**Author's Note:**

> It seems I am incapable of writing long fic. Oh well! Short and sweet, just like our determined protagonist. Enjoy anyway!


End file.
